Battle Saga
by Thanatos4
Summary: A senior is swept up into the berserk universe. Rated R for later gore and adult situation.
1. Default Chapter

Prologue: Returned but not home.  
  
The hurricane of biblical proportions raged across the southern U.S. wreaking havoc everywhere. Yet on the edge of the storm a singular being trudged. Undistinguishable at first, upon closer inspection it was revealed to be a man. His cloak billowing in the wind he moved with a weary step to an unknown destination. He cared not for the storm. Ignoring blasts of wind and lightning bolts the man continued his unfaltering trek. The open wounds that littered his body drained him more than the storm ever could. Turning off the ravaged streets he turned to continue down a row of houses looking for his target. He found it half way down the street. Staggering up the steps he uttered two words before slumping unconscious against the door.  
  
"I'm back."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
He awoke to the sound of screams. Reacting on pure instinct the man reached for his waist only to find his weapon missing. Opening his eyes he saw someone he never expected to see again. His sister was standing over him screaming in horror. Obviously she did not recognize him. Pushing himself away from the blood encrusted wall he staggered to his feet. Ignoring the now babbling female he lumbered into the house and once again collapsed onto the floor reopening most of his wounds.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The next thing he remembered was hushed voices nearby. Slowly shifting his muscles he found that he had been stripped and his wounds bandaged. Oddly enough he also felt something going in and out of his wrist. *Must be an IV* he thought before settling down to try and sort out the voices.  
  
". daughter found him on our doorstep like that." Obviously his father.  
  
"Just like this Mr. Tetlow?" The doctor.  
  
"Yes Dr. Kurt but he woke up to her screams and staggered inside before collapsing again." A female voice possibly his mother's.  
  
"He was actually conscious with these wounds?! And moving!"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"My gods who is he! I haven't seen wounds this bad since that ten car pile up. And all on one man! The pain alone should have rendered him unconscious if not outright kill him," He had no idea what the doctor was blabbering about. As far as he could remember he had only been impaled three times.  
  
"I know Doctor, and as far as we can tell he was out in the storm as well." "I really hope this man recovers. He must have an amazing story to tell." The doctor didn't know how right he was.  
  
"And you say he was in armor and other medieval clothes?" The doctor asked.  
  
"Yes he was, with sword and everything. We tried to remove as much of it as possible before the ambulance arrived but we were only able to get off was some of his armor. The paramedics had to cut the rest off because he would have been too heavy to carry." His father explained. Now they just went too far for the man.  
  
"Like .frell. you did! I spent . too much . time on that . armor." He hissed sitting up. Looking down he ripped the IV out of his wrist and swung his legs over the side of the hospital bed. He pinned the three in the room with a glare.  
  
"Y..you're awake!" the doctor stuttered. None of them made any move to approach him.  
  
"Yes." The man croaked trying to force recognizable words out of his scratchy throat. "And you better have not have ruined my armor."  
  
"They didn't ruin it; they just cut the straps holding it in place." The father quickly explained. The man lightened his scowl just a little before trying to stand. He had barely regained his feet when he stumbled and fell to his knees. The doctor lost his fear to fury and rushed to the man.  
  
"What in the blazes do you think you're doing!" he yelled as he helped the man back to the bed.  
  
"Let go healer! I have an obligation to fulfill that can not be done here." The man growled trying to stand again.  
  
"You imbecile I can't let you leave in this state. You should not even be conscious after the injuries you had. We had to spend five hours in surgery sewing your body back together. You've lost over half the blood in your body and you need rest!" He howled at the man as he forced him back into the bed.  
  
"So?" The man demanded his scowl deepening. "My obligations do not wait for me. I must go."  
  
"You will not leave this bed for at least a week even if we have to strap you down to it!" The man picked the doctor up by the throat, an impressive feat considering the doctor was not a small man.  
  
"I will leave this place even if I must break you first healer, now stand aside!" He growled shaking the poor doctor. He sat the doctor back down on the ground before rising again and this time staying up. Shuffling towards the door with one hand on the wall he cursed his weakened state.  
  
"Hello mother, father." He muttered before exiting the room. The hallway outside was packed with people injured in the storm and he was having a hard time making his way to the elevator at the end of the hall. Every so often a nurse would approach him to send him back to his room but a sharp scowl sent them on their way. Entering the elevator he pushed the button for the parking lot and slumped against the wall. His body was much weaker than he remembered. His wounds must have been worse than he realized. *No matter, I will retrieve my armor and find a portal back.*  
  
The elevator opened to the lobby. It was filled with people waiting to get medical attention and other personnel rushing back and forth. None of them paid much attention to him. He was halfway to the entrance when that changed though. The paramedics resting next to the coffee machine eyes bugged out when they finally noticed him. They were the same ones that had brought him in. Hurriedly they tried to catch him at the door. Getting there moments before him they blocked his way. The man growled.  
  
"Out of my way healers." He ordered.  
  
"Man you look like shit." The first one said.  
  
"Yeah you need to go back upstairs and rest." Seconded the second. The man just gnashed his teeth and belted them both in the stomach. The paramedics dropped to the floor in agony while the man staggered over them and out the door. He stumbled through the parking lot towards his house. Wavering as exhaustion washed over him he collapsed on the closest car to catch his breath.  
  
It wasn't until moments later that he realized that he was not alone. Whirling around, he threw himself off balance and sunk to the ground. Glaring up he spotted his parents with inscrutinable expressions gazing down on him.  
  
"What?!" He growled.  
  
"Are you really Eric?" his mom asked.  
  
"Yes." The man sighed dropping his head. And he wept. He wept for everything and nothing at all. Time and space ceased to exist for him. All he knew was agony. That is until he felt a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Lets go home son."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Eric awoke in his room feeling much better. His body was healing fast, much faster than a normal human's, and he was anxious to get going. He decided to go inspect his equipment. It was only 5:00 in the morning and no one else was up. All his stuff had been piled in the middle of the living room. Eric rummaged through the pile sorting it. Happily Eric noted that all his armor was present as well as his some of his swords and throwing knives. Looking over the armor he growled over the way they had 'removed' the breastplate. It looked like the clasps had been cut with bolt cutters. Sighing in exasperation he checked over the rest of the breastplate for other things to repair while he was fixing the clasps. There were numerous dents and holes, mainly from where he had been impaled, that had to be fixed. Oddly enough the crest was still intact. The gleaming 'WTF' brought a small smile to his face.  
  
A small sound made him whirl around. At the entrance to the room were his little brother and sister with terrified looks on their faces. Dropping the breastplate with his other armor he smiled to try to look less threatening. It was probably a wasted effort given the fact his scarred torso made for an imposing sight. Rummaging around in the laundry he quickly donned a T-shirt and sat down on the floor. Keeping his smile up he beckoned to for his siblings to approach. They timidly walked over and sat across from him. They warily regarded him before his little brother got up enough courage to speak.  
  
"Are you Eric?" He stuttered. But before Eric could answer his little sister interrupted.  
  
"Of course he isn't Em. Eric is 17. He looks like he's 60." She berated Em.  
  
"I'm only 33 Sarah. And yes Em I am Eric." Eric grimaced, he didn't look that old did he?  
  
"Then why is your hair turning gray?" Em asked.  
  
"Yeah Eric?"  
  
"My hair is turning gray because of the life I live." Eric sighed.  
  
"I still don't believe your Eric?" Sarah accused.  
  
"Sarah Alegria Tetlow!" Eric snapped causing Sarah to instinctively sit up straighter. "Still don't believe me SeiSei?" Eric smirked.  
  
"Eric!" the two kids shouted before tackling him in a hug.  
  
"Yeah, yeah, I'm glad to see you guys too." Eric smiled. "That includes you to Elizabeth." Called to his other sister in the doorway. She just stood there in horror.  
  
"Eric .. is that really you?" She asked in fear.  
  
"Yeah it is. Why are you so scared?" Eric asked concerned.  
  
"You . you should be dead. I saw you yesterday! You were bleeding all over the place! There were holes going through you I could put my hand through!" She screamed  
  
"Oh you mean these?" Eric asked lifting his shirt to reveal where the doctors had sewed up the holes. His siblings collective jaws dropped at the sheer amount of scars running across his torso.  
  
"Wow, Eric! How did you get so many scars?" Em asked awed.  
  
"Battle. Come and sit. I'll tell you all about it." Eric chuckled, beckoning to his parents and sister to join them.  
  
"It all started a year ago for you, but for me it has been seventeen years..." 


	2. Chapter 1: The White Swordsman

Disclaimer: I do not own Berserk. This was written just for the hell of it and if anyone sue al they will get are some shiny dice.  
  
A/N: The way this fic works is I will do one chapter for each episode. For flashbacks in the series I will most likely end up doing something original to keep with the plot.  
  
Chapter One: The White Swordsman  
  
October 8th 2003  
  
Eric P.O.V.  
  
It was raining again, much to my dismay. There was a damn hurricane off the coast and though it was not close enough to close down the schools it was close enough to dump obscene amounts of water on them. Now I had to trudge three miserable blocks through rain to catch the bus home. Damn hurricane. Muttering under my breath I opened up my umbrella and began the unpleasant task.  
  
I had been trudging down the street trying to keep my stuff from getting soaked when I got the strangest feeling. It felt like a small cramp combined with pressure right behind my eyes. Growling under my breath at the new annoyance I rubbed my eyes to dispel the feeling. Then I made the mistake of opening them.  
  
"WHAT THE FUCK!!"  
  
I was now standing in the middle of a sunny forest glade with absolutely no idea of how I got there. My jaw dropped as I stared in shock. Whirling around, I only saw more forest. Looking down in horror I saw that my tracks just appeared out of no where on the ground. I ran back to where they started and just kept on going. Whatever had happened, I was now stuck in some unknown forest. Slumping down on a log I cradled his head in his hands.  
  
"What in the hell am I going to do now." I mumbled staring off into space. I tried to figure out what I should do but my brain was still addled. I couldn't think of a single thing.  
  
AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!  
  
The scream ripped me out of my empty thoughts like lightning. I was on my feet and running towards it before I even knew I was moving. The sheer amount of terror allowed me no alternative. Crashing through the forest brush I soon heard up another voice.  
  
"Zu'tour phor elg'caress!" The male voice cruelly shouted.  
  
The malice in the voice only spurred me on. Soon I broke into a clearing with three knights huddling around a woman. They obviously had less than chivalrous thoughts at the moment as the woman once again shrieked and tried to back up. My conscience would not let me stay idle so I grabbed the first weapon that came to hand and rushed the men. Smirking I finally got to do something I had always wanted to do; use my 60 pound back pack as the bludgeoning weapon of mass destruction that it was. The first blow met the sent the middle man careening to the ground. Whirling around to keep my momentum I took advantage of the remaining men's shock to clobber the one on the left in the temple. He dropped like a sack corn and stayed down. The third man finally reacted to my presence by unsheathing his sword. Unfortunately his target was no longer in striking distance as I had tripped over the hysterical woman.  
  
Startled by the woman's new scream I tumbled over into the third man sending them both to the ground. Through skill, fate, or dumb luck my shoulder connected with the man's groin immediately disabling him. By then the first man had regained his feet and was already swinging his sword at me. Scooping up the third man's sword I was barely able to block the swipes. I was rapidly loosing ground when fate, ahem dumb luck, smiled on me again. Tripping on a root I fell backwards completely evading a swing meant to take of my head. I flailed trying to stop my fall when I felt the sword hit something solid. Looking up from my back I noted that my sword was now embedded in the man's skull.  
  
Gasping in horror I dropped the sword as the man slumped to the ground. I couldn't rip my gaze from the man's now frozen face. I had just taken a life and felt no remorse. What in god's name was happening to me? A noise behind me caused me to snatch up my sword and whirl around. I had managed to catch the second man in the neck right before I would have been impaled. The second man dropped to the ground almost without a head. Swallowing my bile I turned to the third man bloody sword in hand. The third man had fled leaving quite a trail of broken branches and brush.  
  
Sagging to my knees I felt all of my energy evaporate. All the adrenaline my body had been running on in the fight flushed out of my system. I could do no more than breathe and try to come to grips with what I had just done. I stared down at my bloody hands, the same hands that had now claimed two lives. Worse I felt no regret about my actions and that scared the hell out of me. Who knew that taking lives was this easy? It was supposed to be a heinous offence that only the remorseless would commit. Yet the motions had been simple enough. I was ripped from my train of thought by a soft body impacting me.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Mantela P.O.V.  
  
AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!  
  
I screamed as the soldier backhanded here. Scooting back I tried to get away from my assailants.  
  
"Shut up bitch!" The center fighter yelled at me. I screamed again and scooted farther back. The Chudan regulars had chased after me when I was separated from my Lord's convoy. Scared out of my wits the I had bolted into the woods beyond the protection of the Band of the Hawk that was hired to give safe passage for my lord. Now my worst fear was about to come true. The middle soldier was about to pin me down when a green blur slammed into his side sending him away from me. The stranger swung the bag around again knocking another soldier out. Then the klutz tripped on my legs.  
  
OOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!! I screamed at the sudden pressure. Bringing my legs back once the stranger got off them I rubbed my shins. Looking up I was astounded to see that the stranger was holding his own against the foot soldier despite his lack of skill. Stumbling on a root I knew my would-be rescuer had just signed his death warrant. Then his sword connected with the soldier's temple shocking me, and the stranger. My hopes were dashed though as he dropped his sword in horror. He had his back turned to me and didn't see the other soldier rushing him with sword drawn. Yet the stranger surprised me again by whipping around and nearly decapitating the man. Then he did the strangest thing yet. He dropped to his knees and looked like he was on the verge of weeping. Feeling relief well up in me for my savior I got up and tackled him in a hug.  
  
"Thank you my savior." I mumbled into his strange shirt over and over. Trying to get closer to I gripped him tighter. Then I felt his arms encircle my shoulders comfortingly and I broke down into tears. I had never felt safer.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Eric P.O.V.  
  
"Bel'la dos ussta daxunyrr." What ever that meant, the woman kept mumbling it into my shirt as she held onto me tighter. I sat there stunned as the woman broke down and wept on my shirt. Blushing at completely forgetting the poor woman I wrapped my arms around her before looking down to get a better look. Shocked I noted that she was no older than 15.  
  
"Huh?" It finally dawned on me that she was wearing medieval clothes, not to mention I had just beaten three knights. It also apparently dawned on the girl how old I was and what position we were in. We both blushed and sprang apart.  
  
"Um sorry?" I apologized rubbing the back of my head.  
  
"Vel'bol zhah dosst kaas?" The girl asked. I had no idea what she was saying but it didn't even resemble any language I had ever heard. Things had just gotten much more complicated. I wondered how I was going to communicate to her.  
  
"Shlu'ta dos naut telanth?" Now the girl sounded disappointed. Quickly I pointed at myself and said my name while smiling nonthreateningly. Then I pointed at her wit a questioning look on my face.  
  
"Mantela." She said smiling.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Mantela P.O.V.  
  
'He must be a foreigner.' I thought as the boy in front of here smiled. He was not only dressed quite odd but also could not understand a thing I had said. I smiled at Eric to show that my gratitude. At least I knew he was not going to harm me. Now all I had to do was repay his kindness. Standing up I helped the boy up and dusted him off. Eric looked had a curious but confused look on his face. I was thankful for his intelligence; I did not want to think of what I was about to attempt if he had been some dullard. Standing up I walked back to the boy's green pack he had dropped. Lifting it I found it much heavier than it looked. Handing it back to the inquisitive boy I started walking back in the direction of the convoy. I smiled as he fell into step beside her. He had brought both swords with him. The boy was definitely smart to bring the weapons. He would probably need them. A grunt from the boy brought my attention back to him and what was in his outstretched hand.  
  
'What?' The boy was offering me one of the swords. What in the gods name would possess him to do such a thing? Surely he could see that I was a peasant, more importantly a woman, and had no business wielding a sword. Dumfounded I just stared at the boy.  
  
'He really must be a foreigner.' Though I did not feel comfortable about it I still accepted the sword. Smiling at him I started walking again.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Eric P.O.V.  
  
I trekked besides Mantela deep in thought. The fates must hate me. I was in the middle of some unknown forest, completely cut off from everything even remotely familiar, following a girl knowing only her name. Oh and I had just killed two men and looted their bodies. Yep the fates definitely hated me.  
  
Sighing I followed Mantela through the forest in silence. A small smile played across my lips as I finally noticed how peaceful things seemed now that I accepted my situation. The birds were singing, the leaves were swaying in the breeze, the sound of metal meeting metal.  
  
'What the hell?' I sprinted ahead with my sword drawn. It sounded like there was a full scale war happening up ahead and there was no way I was going to let Mantela back into danger. Breaking through into the clearing I saw that some sort of convoy was under attack by the same soldiers that I had just saved Mantela from.  
  
'This must be who she was with.' I realized grimly. Well I had saved her once before and I saw no reason to stop now. Motioning to Mantela to stay hidden I entered the fray. Knowing only what I had seen in movies I decided not to get into the thickest of fighting. That would have been suicidal. Rather I stayed to the periphery taking on only what appeared to be the weakest opponents. Hacking and slashing as if my life depended on it, which it did, I managed to take down my first opponent. As earlier I was ill prepared for mortal combat. Mainly the sheer amount of blood and gore almost made me hurl where I stood. Yet I steeled myself and continued to fight. I did not know how long I fought only that I was quickly tiring. Suddenly I slipped in some pooled blood and collapsed on the ground. My foe sneered over me ready to deliver the killing blow. However before his sword could fall a saber punched through the man's chest ending his life. As the man fell forwards I gaped at my rescuer.  
  
'He's a knight in shining armor!' I gawked at the man before me. White horse, white armor, white hair, the man radiated purity. Even his skin was a pale, almost albino, color. The other worldly image was only enhanced by the cold blue eyes staring me down over the saber.  
  
"Vel'uss ph' dos?" the knight's silky voice demanded of me. I could only stutter in awe.  
  
"Ush'akal Griffith!" Mantela shouted running from the forest drawing the knights attention away from me.  
  
"Vrine'winith! Uk zhah natha abbil!" The knight's eyes widened.  
  
"Ph' dos l' noamuth wanre ligrr Mantela?" he asked.  
  
"Siyo ush'akal Griffith." Mantela huffed finally at our side. They launched into a rapid conversation that I had no chance of following.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Griffith Cam  
  
Griffith was not a happy camper. The day so far had only held annoyance and irritation. Gruel and cocky lords were never a good combination. Then the damn Chudan regiment following the convoy had finally made their assault causing the peasants to scatter in terror. Most had returned but there was still a few missing. He just knew he would end up having to hunt them down latter. Then again battle was an excellent stress reliever.  
  
Shoving his saber through the final soldiers throat Griffith came upon the weirdest person he had ever seen. Tight fitting clothing that surpassed any lords in quality coupled with his strange pack fade for a very odd appearance.  
  
"Who are you?" He demanded of the stuttering stranger.  
  
"Sir Griffith!" His eyes snapped up to a peasant girl running towards them.  
  
"Stop! He is a friend!" She shouted.  
  
"Are you the lost servant girl Mantela?" He asked the girl.  
  
"Yes Sir Griffith." She said. "Please do not hurt my friend. He saved me from the Chudan soldiers."  
  
"Hmn what is name." Griffith demanded.  
  
"His name is Eric, Sir Griffith. I can not tell you more because he can not speak our language. He is a foreigner from far away." Mantela explained.  
  
"Really know. And how did he come by those swords." Griffith continued.  
  
"He defeated three soldiers and took them Sir."  
  
"I find that hard to believe Mantela. He does not look to be a warrior."  
  
"True but he did manage to win." She persisted.  
  
"Fine then. Let him join the convoy but he is your responsibility." Griffith commanded riding away.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Eric P.O.V.  
  
"Ula t'yin. Ori'gato ukta valm l' akh drill uk zhah dosst kyon." The knight Griffith finished turning his horse away. I had no idea what they had said but when Mantela turned around too help me up I smiled. For some reason Griffith reminded me of someone and there was no way in hell I was going to leave now. Besides it wasn't like I had anywhere better to go.  
  
A/N: Well that's it for episode one. Please review. Oh and the first one who can tell me what language I used for Chudan I will put them in the story. 


End file.
